Have you been Herman the Germanned? How the culinary version of the chain letter is ripping so many friendships apart

Sometimes Caroline Ayres would slip the muddy-looking jars unnoticed into her work colleagues’ handbags. On other occasions she’d wait until darkness fell, place them in Tupperware boxes and leave them on her neighbours’ doorsteps. For Caroline, an otherwise normal mother of three, there were no depths to which she wouldn’t stoop. And she doesn’t even feel guilty about it.

Like thousands of others, Caroline, 42, had been ‘Hermanned’. To the uninitiated, this meant she had been given a Herman the German cake – the culinary equivalent of a chain letter – which has been taking over towns and villages across the land.

Strictly speaking, Herman doesn’t begin life as a cake but as a pungent ‘starter’ mix of yeast, flour, sugar and milk – and therein lies the problem. This must be kept, fed and nurtured for ten days after which the mixture is divided into four. The ‘caretaker’ bakes one and gives the others to friends, and so the process continues.

A piece of cake: Sara Tye with the mixture for her Herman. The cake must be kept, fed and nurtured for ten days after which the mixture is divided into four

Caroline, a speech therapist, explains: ‘It began a few months ago. A friend came round when she knew I was out, the witch, and shoved a Herman in my daughter Caitlin’s arms with the words, “Here, your mum is going to kill me” and then ran off down the garden path.’

Each Herman comes with a set of precise instructions. He tells you when he is hungry, what he must be fed and how often he must be stirred. To many he is not just a sweet sponge cinnamon cake dotted with apples and topped with brown sugar but a part of the family – whether you like it or not.

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Caroline, of Exminster, Devon, continues: ‘Caitlin, who is eight years old, asked what it was and I said it was a cake you have to make and grow. Obviously, I had to do it with her. The first batch is quite fun, although it stinks and sits on the worktop bubbling menacingly.

‘And having sent various texts saying “If anyone sends me a Herman I will kill them”, I then had to get rid of mine. I divided mine into five so had four to give away. I was shameless about it, doorsteps in the dead of night, hidden in bags, you name it.

Finished product: A Herman the German cake is the culinary equivalent of a chain letter which has been taking over towns and villages across the land

‘One woman I gave it to got really into it. But then she went away and was worried about feeding Herman so dropped him back off with me. I’m afraid he had an accident and fell down the sink. It was Hermanicide but I’m afraid there’s only so much you can take.’

In the past few months, Hermans have been appearing, in rather sinister fashion, in kitchens all over the country. Sometimes they are openly given, more often than not they arrive via a child’s schoolbag or are left by the back door. They can be hidden in jars, yogurt pots and old tubs of margarine. One woman allegedly delivers hers in old Chinese takeaway boxes.

Ingrid Taylor, 47, an office manager from Fernhurst, West Sussex, says: ‘A friend gave one to me last week and I love it. I’m a keen baker and I was amazed I hadn’t heard of it before. Now I’m a convert. I’ve got another batch on the go and I’m going to keep all of it and experiment.’

On web forums such as Mumsnet, there are pages and pages devoted to Herman. Topics range from the best way to look after him to the etiquette of accepting or not accepting him. Herman is meant to be a sign of friendship, but all too often he is the cause of friction.

As one woman wrote: ‘Friend who gave me Herman is coming round on Day 10. I am hoping to make a cinnamon cake which I will pass off as Herman. Will I get away with it?’

Vanessa Pestridge, 34, is the ‘friend’ who gave Herman to Caroline’s daughter. She says: ‘Some people get annoyed that you haven’t given Herman to them, others get furious that you have. I sent Caroline a little text afterwards, saying, “A little treat for you as one of my dear friends.” She wasn’t that appreciative. I got mine from a friend in Exeter then I gave mine to various people. It spread like crazy throughout the village.

‘It’s like a chain letter but with yeast. The thing is it’s quite difficult to say no to because it’s supposed to be a sign of friendship. Actually, I’d rather have slightly fewer friends.’

Vanessa, however, committed the ultimate
Herman crime. She says: ‘My confession is I never baked it. I managed
to feed it, that bit’s not that labour-intensive. It makes your house
smell a bit like a brewery but otherwise it was OK. But actually turning
into a cake?

‘I was really busy at the time. I
gave three away and kept one and I thought I must get on and bake it.
But then I thought sod it and poured it in the compost heap.

‘Not everyone can have made it, can they? But still, I like to think I didn’t kill him as I passed him on.’

The anthropomorphising of Herman is bizarrely accepted by all. And love him or loathe him, once received, he cannot be ignored.

Isla
Whitcroft, 47, is the author of the teen thriller series The Cate
Carlisle Files and lives in Northamptonshire. She says: ‘It was given to
me by a friend. She is a great cook, so when she gave me this gooey
stuff in a carton and a photocopied list of instructions I was keen to
try it. You have to do something to the mixture virtually every day.
Feed it, blow its nose, wipe its face.

‘I
put it in my utility room and every time I saw it I had a tug of guilt.
There were Christmas presents to wrap and parties to attend and
whatever else, and I was worrying about Herman.’

Although
predominantly passed from woman to woman, Herman isn’t just for
housewives. The Mumsnet boards are full of women complaining about their
husbands’ obsession with Herman.

Stuart
Roberts, 38, a public sector worker from Hampshire, has set up a
website, hermanthegermanfriend shipcake.com, where people can swap
Herman tales and post pictures of their favourite Herman cakes.

He says: ‘A friend of my wife’s
knocked on the door one day and I was in alone. She had this blue bowl
covered with a teacloth with a set of instructions attached to it.

‘She said, “Here you go, this is
Herman.” At first I thought, what’s this and why would I be interested,
but I liked the instructions and thought I’d give it a go. It’s the
only cake I’ve ever baked and I loved it. That was three or four months
ago. I set up a web page and now about 7,000 people a month are looking
at it, so there’s definitely an interest there. I might try Herman
cupcakes next.’

Herman has a growing web presence, but there is also something comfortingly old-fashioned about him. Sara Tye, 44, a PR consultant from Swindon, says: ‘I like that it’s made from yeast which has been lovingly nurtured.

‘It’s 20 years since I used yeast and I like the memories the smell brings. And at a time when there’s so much social networking it’s great that this is something real that is passed around. You’ve got the responsibility of looking after it – that’s part of the friendship thing, helping friends to manage the Herman.

‘Another friend is bringing me a new Herman tomorrow. I’m going to start another one.’

So beware of housewives bearing gifts. For of one thing you can be sure . . . if you haven’t yet received your Herman, you soon will.

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Have you been Herman the Germanned? How the culinary version of the chain letter is ripping so many friendships apart